


In Thread

by LunalitSol



Category: 13 Reasons Why (TV)
Genre: 5+1 Things, Bisexual Male Characters, Friends to Lovers, Friendship, Issues of mental health, M/M, Pre-Slash, Pre-canon through post-canon, Romance, Sharing Clothes, Work In Progress, alternating pov
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-23
Updated: 2019-08-13
Packaged: 2019-09-25 08:23:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 9,363
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17117849
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LunalitSol/pseuds/LunalitSol
Summary: Five times Alex ended up in something of Zach's clothes, and one time Zach ended up in something of his.





	1. one

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> General warnings: All canon events and related triggers are liable to be mentioned in passing, and one chapter will specifically deal with Alex's suicide attempt. Otherwise, mental health concerns, poor self-esteem, etc. will appear, but primarily as facets of the characterization.
> 
> The heavy stuff shows up, but this is mostly about the sweet.

1.

_Thursday October 27th, 2016_

“By the way, a bunch of us are coming to school as the mile-high club for Halloween on Monday, and the guys gave me the go ahead to let you in on it.”

Zach’s grin was self-assured and conspiratorial even as Alex felt his eyebrows come halfway up his forehead.

“The mile high club?” he repeated. “Who came up with that? How would that even work?”

The question of why Alex of all people was being invited to participate went unasked, however much it hovered in his head and on the middle of his tongue. Gift horses and all that cliche crap. He held it back, pushing it away toward the tiny curiosity about what Hannah and Jess were going to be, if they’d have wanted to plan something. If they were all still friends.

He couldn’t worry about the way he’d been drifting apart from his first friends in this place. Not right now at least. There was always time for some good old-fashioned self-flagellation when the sky was dark and his house quiet.

“It was Justin’s idea,” Zach told Alex with a shrug, popping a fry in his mouth and just barely avoiding getting ketchup on the notes in front of him.

Amazing he’d noticed them at all, let alone in time to prevent fucking them up- the pair of them had come here to get homework done but basically not touched any of it other than the initial spreading of their papers, books, and writing utensils all over the table top.

“Shocker,” Alex intoned, and Zach snorted his agreement.

“Bryce got a fuck-ton of these contacts that make your eyes look like you’re stoned or we can write the word ‘high’ on our shirts or whatever, and then we’re all wearing sports jackets. Should be super easy to put together.”

Ah. There was the rub.

“Oh, see,” Alex said, aiming to sound cavalier instead of totally anxious about how his inability to partake (in the dumbest group costume idea he’d heard of since those assholes at his old school were ‘snapchat ghosts’) might make Zach and Justin and the other guys decide to ditch him, “I think you’re somehow confusing me for a jock. Or someone with an ounce of athletic ability.”

Zach frowned at him.

“What do you mean?”

“I’m not going without coffee and eating out for a month so I can buy a sports jacket that I’ll literally never wear again.”

Alex broke his last fry in two as he spoke, tossing half of it Zach’s way. Zach caught it in his mouth, and his smile turned absurdly smug before he remembered that they were actually having a conversation.

“Okay, so, you can borrow one of mine. Problem solved.”

Zach shrugged, totally nonchalant, and Alex forced himself not to stare or even think to read into it.

“Seriously?”

“It’s not a big deal,” Zach said, all offhand like. “I have a bunch. I am a jock or whatever, in case you forgot.”

Alex snorted. Of course.

“Whatever,” he told Zach, though what he meant was  _thank you_.

Zach seemed to get the message anyway, and he smiled at Alex, wide and soft and as generous as everything else Zach was so far, before dropping his eyes back to the tabletop and asking, “Thank me by doing my half of the history homework?”

“Yeah right. Good try though.”

“Worth a shot." Zach's eyes caught Alex's, that great, dumb smile still there on his face, and then he was grabbing papers, stacking them neatly.

“Come on. Let’s head back to my place to finish working. That way we can grab one of my jackets for you while we’re there.”

Alex had never been in Zach’s room before, though Zach had been in his plenty through a couple class projects they’d done together. It was nice, in a kind of sparse, sporty way, but Alex thought it could benefit from a little more personality. It wasn’t like he knew Zach that well, albeit better than any of the other guys, but there was definitely more to him than baseball and shades of blue and grey.

 “Here,” Zach said, depositing his backpack on his bed and going to the closet. “Try this one.”

He tossed a jacket at Alex, kind of teal with black stripes and an Adidas logo stitched into the front. Alex managed to catch it, but only barely, and when he looked up Zach was watching him, lips pursed to hold back laughter.

“Look at that. You should totally try out for baseball with those reflexes.”

“I’ll get right on that.”

Alex took his sweater off and swapped it for Zach’s jacket, praying it didn’t look completely ridiculous. The guy was a fucking giant, and, though Alex was completely sure he wasn’t actually “little”, Zach did have something like a half a foot on him, combined with a lot more muscle mass. The sleeves were baggy and went a good few inches past his fingertips, the bottom of the jacket hanging a little above mid-thigh. It wasn’t too bad, though. Workable. And, fuck, it was comfortable.

Maybe he should buy one of these, after all.

“This is why we call you little Alex,” Zach laughed, coming forward. “Jesus.”

“On Tony or Clay, this would be a dress,” Alex pointed out. How many times did he have to say the words “average height” before the guys shut up?

Maybe more than just the once, but whatever. Fuck it.

If he threw a fit every time they ragged on him, he’d not only get kicked to the loser curb, but he’d become a huge target too. No thanks. It was just dumb to get worked up about, especially when he knew the point wasn't just height or whatever. No, it was that he was skinnier than most of the kids shorter than him, and weaker, and both only more so in the crowd of Liberty athletes.

And, yeah, Alex was allowed to hang out; but, he wasn't allowed to forget where he stood.

It wasn't intentionally cruel, not by most of them anyway, but Alex had always gotten it. It just didn't matter. At least now when he got fucked with, he could talk some shit back without getting his ass kicked. Besides, Zach almost never meant any harm.

Alex liked that more than he could say.

“True,” Zach said, grinning. “Doesn’t change you being little, especially next to me.” And he reached over, pushed one of the sleeves of his jacket up to Alex’s elbow. “But just watch. You’ll pull it off like everything else, and Jess will somehow still think you’re hot.”

That was… mildly comforting. And mildly insulting.

 _Somehow think you’re hot._ Because it was such a miracle.

The sad thing? It totally was.

“Hey,” Zach said. “Maybe you’ll even get some. Girls do love jocks.”

“Oh, then it’s good I have this jacket of yours to magically turn me into one,” Alex joked, poking his stomach. “Doesn’t feel like a six-pack yet. Something must be wrong.”

“Your inability to do a sit-up, probably.”

Alex actually laughed at that one.

“Fuck off. Come on, let’s finish this fucking assignment.”

“Shit, yeah,” Zach said, going and sitting at his desk. “You can work on my bed if you want.”

“Cool.”

Alex contemplated taking the jacket off for about half a second before deciding to just leave it. It was actually really comfortable, and it didn’t smell like locker room or whatever- a pleasant surprise. Screw it, right? Who gave a fuck?

He settled on Zach’s bed, pulling his backpack toward himself and extracting a few papers along with his history textbook, spreading them out beside him.

If Zach was bothered by Alex wearing his jacket still when it was supposed to be for Halloween, he didn’t mention it. A few times, though, Alex thought he felt Zach looking at him, like non-casual. Like lingering.

Probably, he was just paranoid.

It was nice, Alex thought, having guy friends. It was especially nice having Zach.

They’d probably never be super close. It didn’t seem like that was allowed, really, between dudes, and especially the popular ones. Maybe they’d never get to talk about real stuff- not more than a few sentences here and there. But if this was what their friendship looked like? Sharing food and jokes and classwork and even clothes, even just this one time?

It was better than anything Alex had gotten from a guy before, honestly.

It was enough.

It had to be.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I started this a while back for Zalex week, then ended up not being able to finish it at the time because life's a bitch. That being said, I figured I'd get this sucker up and not worry as much about it being perfect or whatever. I hope you guys enjoy it <3


	2. two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter specific warnings: Rape jokes, depiction of depression and anxiety issues, references to canon deaths, appearances by Bryce + Monty, and some red flags for depression and suicidality.

2.

_ Monday October 30th, 2017 _

Zach honestly wasn’t sure how long Alex had been in the pool before they noticed him. Before Justin loudly said, “Shit, Standall,” and he and Monty went to see what all the fuss was about. 

He didn’t know how they hadn’t noticed him fall in. Friends should notice that shit, shouldn’t they? 

“Is he dead?” Monty asked between bouts of laughter. 

“Fuck off, Monty.” 

Zach’s voice came out aggravated, but still not like he cared all that much- good. The last thing he needed was Bryce or Monty or, hell, Justin thinking he was weaker than they did already. Especially right now. 

Especially with the fucking tapes.

He was pretty sure he could see Alex breathing, but considering the fact that three people in Zach’s circle had died in less than six months now, it’d be nice if Alex would get up or move in some real way. 

“He better not be,” Bryce said. Then, “Hey, fuckhead, go drown in someone else’s pool.” And he laughed once, muttered “freak” under his breath, and walked back toward the pool house with a look that said he thought it was all some big, weird ass joke- that it better be.

Alex kind of glanced at them without moving his head, but it was barely a second before his eyes were once more fixed on the sky.

“Jesus,” Justin said. “Don’t tell me you’re drunk too. And here I was thinking at least you were less of a pussy than Jensen.”

Alex moved at that, went momentarily under water, then was suddenly upright and giving Justin the middle finger. Monty laughed harder than he had been already, and Zach joined him, even as he stepped forward and extended his hand to help Alex out. 

“It’s not too cold, but I don’t know if this qualifies as swimming weather.” 

Zach kept his voice as light as he could even though his stomach felt full of rocks, his lungs like they were slowly getting narrower. Monty had ditched as soon as Zach helped Alex out, going after Bryce and leaving just the three of them clustered by the pool’s perimeter, barely looking at one another. 

Alex’s eyes flitted to him and away. He was shivering. 

“Yeah, I fell.”

“You fell and then decided to just not get out?” 

“What do you care?”

“Dude, seriously? Don’t tell me you’re freaking out on us now too,” Justin said, suddenly sharp and angry. “That is the last thing we fucking need.” He poked Alex hard, and Zach watched as his bizarrely blank face instantly darkened.

“Heaven forbid, right?”

Alex’s lip was curled with something like disgust, with something more Zach couldn’t tell. 

“No, I’m not freaking out. Clay is, though, and you probably made it worse today with the drinking. Did you even think of that?”

“Dude,” Zach snapped, at the same time Justin started snarling something about how Alex needed to watch it. 

To think, they’d gotten along fine less than a month ago.

“Whatever,” Alex said. “I don’t care. It doesn’t matter.”

“Should I tell Jess you said that?” Justin asked, and Zach looked momentarily away from Alex and to his so-called best friend, eyes going hard and reproachful, though it wasn’t like Justin gave much of a shit what he thought lately.

“Seriously, shut up. This doesn’t need to happen here.” 

Or tonight. Or at all. 

It’d be great if they could blow past everything, greater if the tapes could fucking cease to exist.

If Hannah were just still alive. 

God, if one of them had been able to save her, somehow, or if she hadn’t left them, if she’d gotten into the tub and looked at her arms and looked at the water and just changed her mind. Or even if she’d faltered long enough to be found before she lost too much blood. Before she was gone.

If Zach had never walked away from her- at the Crestmont, at school, at Bryce’s party.

No. There was no point thinking about it.  _ Don’t go there.  _

“Here. You look like a half-drowned cat or some shit.” Bryce had emerged once more, a single towel in his hands, which he tossed at Alex before turning to go back into the pool house. 

The towel hit Alex’s shoulder, then the ground.

Zach knew he wasn’t much for athletic prowess, but seriously… And if he was just being pissy because it was Bryce, he should fucking know better. 

Zach waited a beat for Alex to grab the towel, then huffed and picked it up himself. 

“You know Bryce isn’t letting you back in before you’re dry. Come on.”

Alex’s eyes met Zach’s, and the look in them was so foreign, at once like steel and swirling water. But what could he do? Lately, it was like they were all drowning, all at once. And the only way out was to keep going, right? Focus ahead and move forward. They’d all get there, they just had to do it. 

He didn’t have the right words to remind Alex they’d be fine, that they just had to zero in on what they could do and keep pushing, that they just had to believe it’d be normal again until it was; but he could lead by example. Like in a game- keeping a cool head would help everyone else do the same thing. 

“We don’t have to talk about it,” Zach told Alex and Justin. Then, directly to Alex, “But you look like you’re freezing. The faster you move, the faster we get back inside.”

“I just want to go home.”

“Then, go.”

Justin’s voice was harsh, but like he was forcing the attitude more than feeling it. 

It was a move in the right direction, at least. 

“Yo, what are you bitches doing?” Monty and Bryce were squinting at them from the doorway, framed in shadow and the glow of too-warm fluorescent light. 

They all shifted beneath the words, beneath Bryce’s waiting, and Zach could feel the tension ramping back up already. He forced himself to look at their friends and smile, to put a hand on Justin’s shoulder and push him slightly in that direction. It was no mystery he’d be staying put.

“I was just talking about taking Alex home. He’s more wasted than I thought.”

“What, were you sneaking shit out of my dad’s liquor cabinet, Standall?” 

Bryce laughed, and Zach and Justin joined him, even Alex managing something like an echo, his usual self-deprecating humor but just a note more sour. Monty was smirking, and Zach thought he said something too quiet under his breath for any of them to hear, but that made Bryce laugh harder, jostle him against the doorjamb. 

“You coming, de la Cruz?”

“What do you say, Brycie? Am I or can I get a ride?”

Bryce shook his head, a touch mocking. 

“Yeah, yeah, I can drive Monty. No taking advantage of little Alex, okay? No means no, Dempsey. Now, if he passes out in your car…”

“Then just take pictures,” Monty suggested, and Bryce shoved him, rougher this time. 

What the hell? Fuck, he felt sick at just the words. But that was dumb, wasn’t it?

“Gross. Jesus.”

Zach barely kept his voice from sounding too genuinely disturbed. A joke- it was just a fucking joke. Reacting too much would only make it worse. They needed to chill. 

They needed to go.

“We’re gonna head. I’m starting to crash, anyway.”

It was a lie, but as soon as the words were out, Zach’s exhaustion hit him hard. 

“Remember your costumes for tomorrow! That means you, Standall.”

“Fuck off,” Alex said back, but he wasn’t looking at any of them anymore. 

Zach patted him once on his still soaking wet arm, then took a second, just a second, to focus on Justin. He’d looked briefly murderous, but it was already gone. Zach suspected he’d be lighting up again as soon as he was back inside. 

“Come over if you need to. I think I could cover for it tonight.”

“Nah. Go get the party killer home and tell May I said hi when you get back to your place. Drive safe, okay?”

“Cool,” Zach said. 

Even though it wasn’t. Even though his stomach was churning, and his head was spinning, and part of him felt like it was going underwater. Like there’d never be anything but this fucking shitshow, blue so dark it was black all around him, no air to take the burn off his lungs. 

If he said it was fine enough, then it would be. There was no other choice. This was too hard to look at and too murky to see through, so all Zach could do was keep it moving. That was how it worked. No pain, no gain. Fake it ‘till you make it. 

The words rang empty inside his head, but they were all he had. 

“Let’s go.”

Zach and Alex walked a few feet apart on the way to the car, silence all there was between them. Alex’s hair looked almost white, all of him even more pale than usual between the night and the effects of his swim. Zach stared at how his clothes stuck to him, then switched his gaze to the ground, the shadow of his car ahead. When they were a yard or so from the bumper, Zach reached out, caught Alex around the forearm. 

“Hold up. I’ve got a change of clothes in the trunk.”

Alex shook him off, rolling his eyes. 

“So? It’s like a ten minute drive.”

“You’re cold.”

“I’ll live.”

For fuck’s sake. Usually, he wasn’t this hard to talk to, and it was quickly getting under Zach’s skin. 

“You’re dripping wet,” he said, changing tactics smoothly. “My passenger seat isn’t getting ruined because you want to be stubborn.”  

Zach opened the trunk without waiting for an answer this time, rifling through his gym bag. After a moment, Alex sat down on the edge of the open trunk, sagging some against the hinge like he was exhausted. 

“I bet all that water made your clothes heavy.”

Zach’s observation went ignored, but a second later Alex shifted, started tugging off his jacket, then shirt. Zach swallowed, dropping the pair of sweats and socks from his gym bag, plus an old hoodie that hadn’t left his car in at least a year, a few inches from Alex’s left thigh. 

“If they’d made those jokes two months ago, we wouldn’t be reading into it,” Zach said after a minute of just rustling cloth and unsettling quiet. His eyes were on Bryce’s house. “So, this doesn’t have to be any different.”

“You don’t think so?” 

Zach could feel Alex’s gaze on him again, and he crossed his arms tightly over his chest, leaning away- from the house, from the stars, from Alex, from all his other friends. 

He wondered briefly what his dad might say if he were here, but shoved the thought back as quickly as it had come. It wasn’t like they’d ever talked that much. It wasn’t like now they ever could. 

“Halloween tomorrow,” Zach said. “You remember last year?”

“No, Zach. I forgot.”

Alex’s voice was deadpan or maybe just dead, layered in frost. Whatever. Last year had been great. They’d gone as the mile-high club, and it had been dumb, and it had been awesome. That night, they’d all hung out at Bryce’s and gotten high together, the first time Alex had been invited to smoke up with the rest of them and one of the rare nights Zach had let himself indulge. 

He’d let Alex borrow a jacket for the costume and could still remember how he’d worn it the whole night, with his eyes and face increasingly shaded in pink. They’d laughed so fucking much, all of them had, and it had been so great and easy, the whole group talking shit and girls and hilarious stories that only half made sense. So much pizza he’d almost thrown up. He and Justin had gotten the brilliant idea to see if they could fit a slice into the Xbox; when they succeeded, Alex had cracked up so hard he’d about cried, and Monty had all but pissed himself watching Bryce figure out what they’d done. Even Bryce had barely kept a straight face through trying to berate them for destroying his property and being fucking sloppy high. His discovery of pepperoni slices rolled up like batteries stuffed into the back of the remote had been the icing on the cake, the stuff of legend. 

He’d forgotten to get his jacket back from Alex for a whole week after and had nearly told him to just keep it. The teal had looked good against his lighter skin and blue eyes, and within just a few hours of Alex wearing it, Zach had almost been able to believe it was his to begin with. By the time they were all high, he hadn’t been able to help thinking it actually looked weirdly nice- the jacket hanging off Alex’s skinny ass frame like it did. It wasn’t a look Zach thought he could pull off, himself, or that his mom would let him try. But on Alex, it worked. Of course it did. 

“If I get arrested for public indecency, I’m making you pay bail money.”

Zach grinned. 

“No-one can see you but me, and I’ve been in a locker room with you before. Besides, no-way a cop would come on Walker property.”

“True,” Alex said. “Bryce could probably call an officer here and shoot one of us in front of him, and he’d still get, like a warning. Unless there was evidence they couldn’t ignore.”

“You think a body’s evidence they could ignore?”

But Alex was focused on pulling off his jeans now, with no apparent interest in answering. Zach couldn’t even be sure he’d heard the question. 

Zach’s old hoodie was already on him. It was thick and bulky, and should be plenty warm, soft lining inside. He’d bought it at a museum in Santa Rosa when the weather took an unexpected turn, one for him and one for May, matching purple. She’d lost hers at a birthday party just a couple months later, and Zach had pretended to lose his own a week after that. Every time he saw it, he thought he should donate it or give it to Justin or something, but he never did. 

“Purple’s cool,” he said aloud and immediately wished he hadn’t. 

Alex laughed, looking at Zach sideways. He wasn’t quite smiling but almost. Definitely, he was thinking Zach was even dumber than he’d known before. Zach was sure of it.

“As far as colors go.”

“Do you have a favorite? Color, I mean.”

Alex sighed, pulling on Zach’s spare socks. 

“Does it matter?”

As much as anyone’s favorite color did. So, no, not really. 

He didn’t want to admit how lame he sounded, though, or how awkward he was being, so Zach shrugged, watching absently as Alex slid into his sweats. They were black and relatively new, and he forced himself to look away after a moment until all the remaining skin of Alex’s legs was beneath them. He leaned against one of the taillights, tilting his head to stare at the sky as he waited, and when he finally looked back over, Alex was staring at the ground, fully dressed in the borrowed clothes. He seemed smaller than usual, and his eyes had a sheen to them that made Zach’s stomach knot, though it was gone almost as soon as he’d glanced up and spotted Zach’s scrutiny. 

Maybe it was just a trick of the light, but even if it wasn’t, Zach wouldn’t probe. They were all going to be fine. Anyway, talking about it more than they already did wouldn’t solve anything. 

“You look ready for a run,” he offered, and Alex snorted. 

“That’s hilarious.”

“Those pants would be on the ground so fast.”

“Yeah, I’ll be lucky if I can get up the stairs at home.”

“Will your parents say anything?” 

Zach’s mom would have had a whole speech about responsibility or something to give him if the situation were reversed, with a heaping side of  _ do you realize what could have happened? _ for the pool part of things.

If his dad were still here, he’d have had one too, just shorter, and probably with some choice words about how much trust they put in Zach. 

Being his dad, though, it wouldn’t have happened until at least a few days later. Mr. Dempsey hadn’t liked to react to things immediately, so Zach’s mom would lecture him and possibly ground him, and then some time later, Zach’s dad would come around and say they were going to the aquarium or to the beach or out for ice cream, just the two of them. They’d be half-way through whatever it was and suddenly his dad would be talking seriously about things like teamwork, accountability, integrity… Fuck. 

Shame twisted with longing in Zach’s stomach, but he set his jaw and forced himself to listen when Alex finally spoke again.

“Mondays my dad likes to watch football and hang out with some guys from work, so he’s usually out late. And my mom’s still at work.”

“Oh.”

The word sounded hollow, but so did most things. It was on the tip of his tongue to ask if Alex wanted company, but that’d be weird. Wouldn’t it? He hadn’t been to Alex’s house in a while, and Alex hadn’t been to his in close to a year. The two of them mostly hung out at school or at Bryce’s, sometimes at Rosie’s Diner or Monet’s. The rest had just faded until it stopped almost entirely. Inviting himself over now would be strange, and, worse, it would be like he was confirming how much shit wasn’t okay. 

Besides, Zach really wanted to get home and wrap himself up in a game or movie night with May, pretend like all this hard shit didn’t exist for a while. He imagined Alex might want to do something like that, too. Even if he didn’t, though, Zach wasn’t about to just offer company he wasn’t sure he could give. Instead, he turned fully toward Alex, pulling out his keys with one hand and offering the other to his friend.

“You ready to go?”

“I was ready before the wardrobe change, but yeah.”

Maybe when this tape business was finally behind them, he’d ask Alex about hanging out just the two of them again, like last year when they first got to be friends. It’d be a cool change of pace. Maybe.

They just had to wait for this to get better, back to something like normal. 

The car ride to Alex’s was quiet, but, thankfully, the kind that came more from ease than animosity. For as long as Zach had known Alex, he’d been hard to piss off, and quick to get over it when he was; so, almost as soon as tension could pop up between them, it would subside again. He was grateful that hadn’t changed too much, especially right now with all the drama going on. 

Admittedly, he’d been more combative since news first broke of Hannah’s suicide, and especially since the tapes, but even with that, their friendship felt more steady and reliable than any of the others in Zach’s world lately. When it came down to it, Alex was still pretty comfortable to be around and hard to stay mad at, and for whatever reason he seemed to feel the same way about Zach. So, his fuse was shorter lately; so what? As far as Zach was concerned, it was nothing to take personally or get bent out of shape over. They were all on edge. It wasn’t like Alex was alone. Hell, Zach was right there with him.  

Everything from his dad and Hannah and Jeff and Hannah again had stacked up, had compounded, and now he was buried under it all. He was scratching and clawing and focusing on a sliver of sky like it was the whole thing, but it was still crushing him in its own way. 

Zach didn’t know a lot, but it seemed obvious that they were all choking on dirt and floundering deep underwater in one way or another. The more important thing was that it was temporary. He just had to be patient, take the good where he could get it, and keep pushing with everything he had in him to get through the rest. Ideally, Alex and Justin and Jess and everyone else he cared about would follow. 

It wasn’t like they had a choice.

He glanced over at Alex as he pulled into the Standall’s empty driveway. Alex’s head was turned, pressed against the window, his shoulders kind of hunched. 

“You’ll be good in there alone, right?” 

It was as close to asking if his friend needed company as Zach was willing to get tonight, and closer than he’d planned, anyway. 

“Sure.”

Alex sounded listless, and Zach was instantly uncomfortable as much as he thought he understood.  

“Listen, if this is about Bryce, he was just talking shit. It’s better not to think about it.” 

“Is it?” Alex made a scoffing noise against the glass. He still wasn’t looking at Zach. “Whatever, Zach. Thanks for the ride.”

“Hey.”

Zach reached out, let his palm graze Alex’s shoulder before quickly taking it away. Alex paused, fingers curled around the handle for the door but not moving further to open it. 

“We’re still friends.”

Alex looked at him, eyes narrowed and jaw tight, his shoulders rising almost defensively.

“Right.”

His voice was rougher than normal, the smallest edge to it. Guilt burned in Zach’s chest. 

“Seriously,” he said. “We’ve just gotta have each other’s backs until this bullshit blows over. After that-”

“There’s no after.”

Alex’s hands were both tucked up in the sleeves of Zach’s hoodie.  

“Look.” Zach sighed and unbuckled his seatbelt, turning to face Alex fully. “You’ve got to chill. We’re figuring it out, right? Just keep your head in the game.”

Alex rolled his eyes. 

“This isn’t basketball or whatever.”

“No shit.” 

They were silent, solemn for a moment, but then Zach smiled at Alex, extended a hand and poked at where he estimated his ribs were.

“You look ridiculous in that.”

“Noted. Thanks.”

“You should keep it.”

Alex laughed, shoved Zach’s shoulder lightly, and opened the car door. 

“Yeah, right.”

“Not the sweats. I need those. But the hoodie, you should.”

“You just said I look ridiculous, Zach.”

He did, but in a good way. Not that Zach could tell him that without it sounding weird as shit. 

“It’s comfortable, right?”

Alex swallowed and got out of the car, standing right outside of the still open passenger door. He’d pulled further into the hoodie somehow. 

“You trying to buy my cooperation?”

Zach gave him a look he hoped was as distinctly unimpressed as he wanted it to be. 

“Do I look like Bryce?”

“Never.”

“Marcus?”

Alex raised an eyebrow at him. 

“You’re serious?”

“About looking like Marcus? Not really. About giving you that hoodie? Yeah. I mean, if you want it.”

Alex stared at him for a moment, then nodded and kind of smiled. 

“I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“For sure. Remember the costume.”

Alex saluted him sarcastically, taking a few steps backward with his eyes still on Zach’s, then headed for the door. Zach watched him until he disappeared behind the door, heart like a lump in his throat. 

Before he could even start driving, a text notification came through from Alex, just saying, “thank you.” Something in his chest loosened. 

They’d be fine. Halloween was tomorrow. This tapes shit should be done in the next couple weeks, hopefully sooner. He had to stay focused on the good. It was harder to find right now, but it was there. 

Zach pictured Alex wearing his hoodie, like he’d worn Zach’s jacket last year, and smiled to himself. Yeah, it was there.

He and Alex were definitely still friends. Neither of them were going anywhere. His other friends would come around once they put the tapes behind them all. It’d be a better picture if Hannah were still here; that was undeniable. But he could make this work.

No matter what. He had to make this work. 

Any alternative scared him too much to consider, so he wouldn't. What Zach  would do was put his head down and run in whatever direction the people he trusted and cared about most told him to. What he would do was keep giving everything he could to the cause of making this better. 

He had to believe it was enough- no matter how much his racing pulse, the drum of his heartbeat or Hannah’s in his ears, might whisper that it wasn’t.


	3. three

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter specific warnings: Discussion of canon suicide attempt (and other canon events); portrayal of depression, anxiety, and other mental health problems including suicidality; mentions of medication for mental illness; mentions of physical aftermath of suicide attempt; internalized ableism and toxic masculinity with possible undertones of internalized homo/biphobia. Bryce and Monty are both named but make no appearance.

_Friday December 29h, 2017_

Sometimes, maybe even most times, Alex wished he hadn’t woken up.

He didn’t know exactly how bad things had been when he shot himself, but he just couldn’t believe they were worse than what he’d come back to. It took too long for him to understand things, too much work to talk as much as everyone seemed to want to, and everything in him to keep the worst of his words bottled up like poison in his fucked up head. And he failed at that all the time, anyway, no matter how hard he worked. The most often used word in his vocabulary post-coma was “sorry,” and he didn’t know if that would ever change or get better. He’d been conscious almost a month now, and all he could do was lay here in this same stupid bed in this same stupid room, stuck in the same cycle of outburst and apology as if any of it mattered.

Today had started off almost okay, which was worse than when he just woke up feeling shitty. Zach was coming as soon as visiting hours started, and Peter was supposed to drop by tomorrow, and he’d been told he might even get to try video chatting Jess. 

First, though, Alex had been scheduled to have the last of the bandages on his head taken off. 

He’d been excited about that, because, apparently, he was a fucking idiot. _It would be so nice not to have this bullshit stuck to my scalp._ Yeah, no. Stupid. 

All delusions of relief shattered as soon as the nurse handed him a mirror. 

It was funny, in a morbid, awful way. Alex had considered himself kind of weird looking for years: too feminine in the face even after puberty, too skinny and narrow-shouldered and barely average height and plain- and he looked dumb when he smiled with his teeth. Now, though? Crap, he’d give anything to go back. 

He should have shot himself right or not at all. 

Alex had been skinny before, but, shit, he didn’t think he was this scrawny and pathetic looking. Evidently, he’d had some kind of muscle tone pre-coma, because it was clearly missing even just around his neck and shoulders. His hair was back to his natural brown and still uneven, buzzed down further in the spots where they’d had to make incisions for his second surgery than on the rest of his head. The scars were fucking ghastly, revolting. 

Even if he did fucking walk again, even a little, how was he supposed to go outside? Everyone would be looking for these scars, and they’d find them so easily. And they’d run, and he’d be stuck.This was what he’d survived for?

Alex went to throw the mirror, and the nurse caught his hand like she’d been expecting it, gently easing it from his fingers. He tried gripping tighter, but it didn’t matter. It never mattered. 

“I’m going to see about getting Dr. Ellman to come down.”

Fuck that. Fuck her. 

He said it aloud, because of course he did. Half the time his broken brain let whatever the fuck he was thinking or feeling pour out of him without his permission; the other half, it wouldn’t let much of anything come at all or would screw up the words. The doctors said he was lucky he could talk and should just focus on that, but fuck them too. 

Fuck. 

The anger surged, and then was gone. The nurse had barely batted an eye, even though Alex knew he’d been screaming at her. 

He told her he was sorry anyway. Accidentally let slip the words “useless” and “pathetic”, and he could see her filing them away beneath her gentle smile. She was going to tell psych, and _wouldn’t that just be fun?_

Alex didn’t remember falling asleep. One second, it was hitting him that _fuck_ , he was exhausted just from that fucking five minute shitshow. The next? Nothing. 

Sleep was only another thing beyond his control. 

When Alex woke up, Zach Dempsey was playing idly with one of his hands, turning the pages of a book with the other. 

Maybe his brain was bleeding again or some shit. Maybe this was how it ended. 

It wasn’t a bad hallucination to go out on.

But then hallucination-Zach glanced up, and their eyes met, and he dropped Alex’s hand with a too-wide grin. 

“You’re up!”

Real Zach. He was real. Even Alex’s subconscious couldn’t muster up that much enthusiasm.

“Up,” Alex repeated. “I don’t know that this qualifies for up.” He gestured vaguely with his working hand at the fact that he was still very much laying down. 

Zach laughed once and reached over towards the night stand, and then Alex’s bed was shifting on an incline, pivoting forward.

“Better?”

“Yes,” Alex muttered, only a little begrudging. 

Zach looked ludicrously pleased with himself, and because Alex was the worst anymore, all he could think was that Zach Dempsey probably had no trouble getting people to look at him twice (without pity) or want him or care about him. 

He wasn’t a player or any of that shit, Alex could remember that, but he was pretty sure Zach could be if he wanted. It was unfair that one person could be so tall and good looking and capable and also plain good. 

Fuck him and his smiles and his visiting and his friendship. And fuck Alex, himself, for being the thing that ruined all of it, all the time, always, if only in his own head. Alex hated that on his worst days- days like what this one was rapidly becoming- he could see one of his only friends happy and immediately make it about his own inadequacy. 

Which was itself in large part because Alex was such a screw-up, he couldn’t even kill himself successfully. Was it really a wonder he’d wanted to? 

Thankfully, all these words from the vortex spiral stuck themselves in his chest. The sole thing that did come out was another lame-ass apology. 

Zach shrugged one shoulder at it, closing his book and putting it on the empty chair next to him. 

“Man, do you know how hard it was not to mess with that remote the last couple months?”

“I bet it was really rough.”

Alex tried with everything he had in him to make the words land light, but he was pretty sure they still came out wrong, the bitterness on his tongue and in his head seeping into his voice. Zach leaned closer, elbows on his knees and his expression flickering like he wasn’t sure what to say, or like he was torn between a couple different things. His eyes were that steady kind of dark, reliable, and they were on Alex like a microscope. Alex could feel the tiniest wave of another breakdown building, everything from his pulse to his breathing picking up tempo. 

Well, since he was fucking up already, he might as well invite things to get worse, right? 

“Were you holding my hand before?”

Zach’s brows knitted together, his lips turning into something like an ‘o’.

“Uh, no, why? What?” 

“I mean, you were doing something when I woke up… Unless I actually am starting to hallucinate now.”

“Oh, no.” Zach almost looked like he was blushing, and Alex had to force his eyes away. “Sorry. That’s- I started doing that after the first few days you were… I didn’t even really think about it. You were sleeping when I got here, and- is that weird?”

“No.”

Maybe bittersweet, but not weird.

“No?”

“No. That makes sense. Besides, it’s not like you haven’t been helping with the stupid- with the hand exercise shit.”

He’d only been awake for a few weeks, but they’d started having him test and work on his grip almost immediately. It was the most frustrating thing Alex had ever needed to do, at least as far as he remembered, and really just an exercise in perpetual failure. They had him try to pick things up and squeeze hands and all sorts of other dumb shit- the kind of stuff preschoolers could breeze through. Zach was pretty much the person after Alex’s parents who came around most often and had ended up participating in a lot of the work, especially because the person assigned by the hospital supposedly noticed Alex handled things better with Zach around, that he bounced back from things going wrong quicker with someone he knew and liked and trusted than a virtual stranger. It was all true, but Alex hated when they took personal shit like that and made it sound clinical. Psych did the same thing the first time they’d talked to him, and it was fucking uncomfortable. 

“True,” Zach said, and when Alex glanced back up at him, he looked relieved, if still kind of anxious. 

The last was almost definitely Alex’s fault, and guilt tightened his throat like it always did. 

“When you were in your, uh, when you were, like, in your coma, I kept wanting to be able to do something. You know? And your doctors said all we could do was keep coming and talk to you and any touch could also help I guess. So, I just tried to follow that. Like coming and reading books out loud to you, and then your hand. That just happened, and maybe it didn’t actually do anything for you, but it kind of helped me in a way. I know that probably sounds dumb.”

It didn’t. 

The thought of the coma was always so surreal to Alex, not something he liked to dwell on. All the care people had poured into him when he wasn’t even really there to see it or respond or give them anything in return was hard to wrap his head around- and hard not to feel guilty about as well. Still, the idea that he had a friend who would not only have come almost every day but also been willing to fucking read to him. To touch him, even his hand, like he had been, when Alex remembered for sure that wasn’t the kind of thing guys did, especially not the guys Zach ran with. That they both ran with- or had. 

“That reminds me, though. Guess who got cleared to help with your PT officially?”

Zach poked Alex’s wrist, and he couldn’t help smiling back at him.

“Clay?” 

“Are you kidding? Clay would be the worst physical therapist.”

The look on Zach’s face was great. Easy to focus on. Zach always was. 

“He was here the other day,” Alex told him. 

“Cool.”

“Still won’t tell me anything that was on those tapes.”

Zach shrugged one shoulder, mouth in a line. 

“You’ve got to pace yourself.”

It was a very Zach response. 

“Anyway!” Zach smiled at him, the thousand-watt one Alex was never really sure what to do with. “Check this out.”

Zach snagged his backpack up off the foot of Alex’s bed, unzipping it impatiently. He extracted a folded paper seconds later and promptly opened it, holding it way closer than he needed to to Alex’s face.It had a very official heading and half a dozen signatures at the bottom.

“Jesus, Zach, is there anything you do halfway?”

Zach leaned in close, his head hovering a little over Alex’s shoulder. Alex could feel how warm he was at this distance, could feel Zach’s breath on his ear. He had to force himself not to relax back against his friend and could feel the tremors in his hand increase with the effort. The vague dizziness that never quite left these days swelled. 

A hand landed on Alex’s forearm and the world steadied.

“You seem out of it. You get enough sleep?”

Alex wanted to roll his eyes, maybe say something pithy, but settled for glowering. Took less energy.

“I hate being here. Everybody wants me to sleep, but when I do they wake me up.”

“I didn’t mean to wake you up.”

“You didn’t.”

Zach came around, dropping onto the bed by Alex’s legs and facing him. His face was serious.

“They started you on new meds when you woke up. You remember?”

Not really. 

“They have me on so much shit.”

Alex handed Zach’s paper back to him, hand straying up to brush over the side of his head thoughtlessly. Zach’s eyes moved to chase the motion before returning to Alex’s. He looked suddenly solemn, even as his lips quirked up. His shoulders had gone back, like he was bracing himself. 

“They took the bandaging off.”

No shit.

“This morning,” Alex affirmed, his voice coming out more sullen than he’d meant it to. “I look like fucking Frankenstein’s monster. I basically am.”

Zach’s head was shaking when Alex looked back to him.

“It’s not that bad.”

“Seriously,” he added, cutting off Alex’s reactive snarl before it could even come out. He looked completely unphased now. “Just have to get used to it.”

“Let my hair grow out and not go out in public until it does.”

Zach reached out as if to touch Alex’s awful, uneven hair, but quickly retracted his hand. 

“Did I tell you what May got me for Christmas?”

The change of subject immediately defused Alex’s building anger. He didn’t know how Zach always did that. 

“No.” 

Zach had come by for longer than Alex had expected (read: not at all) that day but they’d mostly talked about stupid shit. Alex had bitched about his brother and avoided talking about his mom and dad. Zach had stayed pretty neutral about the holiday. He’d said a couple things about his dad, mentioned going by the cemetery once he’d left. That had been about it. Alex had figured maybe he was trying to be nice, seeing as his own gifts consisted of a cane he couldn’t really use yet, gift cards for new clothes he couldn’t wear yet, and some new headphones psych had promptly said he couldn’t keep. 

Like he’d really try to kill himself with some crappy headphones. 

Zach grinned. 

“She trolled our mom. Look.”

He pulled his wallet out of his pocket and slipped out a card, handing it to Alex.

“Oh my God.”

It was a gift card for Goji Kitchen, this place that had branded itself as Asian fusion with Chinese and Vietnamese. Karen Dempsey had written a scathing Yelp review for that place around the last New Years that had gone semi-viral. 

Alex was kind of amazed he’d remembered. 

“I’ve never seen my mom get red so fast. But she barely acknowledged it. May got grounded, of course.”

“Wish I’d been there.” 

It was only half a joke. Zach seemed to understand, and Alex thought he saw him tense for a breath or two, but then he was just as he’d been before. 

It was hard to know anymore if he was seeing things or not, especially when it came to Zach, who was great but also pretty much the king of repression.

“Yeah, well, that was pretty much the highlight.”

Zach leaned back against the chair, stretching out his legs, and Alex stared despite himself. 

His impulse control was so fucking shot.

“Can’t stay much longer today,” Zach said. “But I’ll make it up to you.”

He sounded bizarrely regretful, and Alex was torn between a sudden swell of resentment and the gratitude that was always just beneath. 

Mercifully, the gratitude won this time.

“You know you don’t have to do that.”

“I know.”

Zach grinned. 

“Just don’t make plans for New Years Eve, okay?”

Alex laughed despite himself, even as he told Zach once more precisely how much he could fuck himself. 

⑅&⑅&⑅&⑅&⑅&⑅

 **Alex** _do u talk to Clay_

 **Zach** _yes?_

 **Zach** _Why? lol_

 **Alex** _hes not ducking subtle_

 **Alex** _I_ _hate voice text but you know what I mean_

 **Zach** _True_

 **Zach** _What happened?_

 **Alex** _He came to visit_

 **Alex** _Got awkward when he saw my head_

 **Alex** _Then rambled and bailed_

 **Zach** _Want me to call? I’d come by but with May rn_

 **Alex** _this sucks_

 **Zach** _I can call_

 **Alex** _nvm_

 **Alex** _i'm just going to go to sleep_

 **Zach** _if you’re sure_

 **Zach** _take care of yourself dude. I’ll see you tomorrow_

⑅&⑅&⑅&⑅&⑅&⑅

Alex had been ready for this meeting to be over even before it had begun. Thirty minutes in now, and he’d literally managed to hold his tongue on more inappropriate jokes than he had all month. Turned out, the staff psychiatrist filling in for Dr. Ellman positively loved to hear himself talk. Not giving him excuses to drone on more than he was already was a pretty good motivator.

Of course, the man was still going on and on, even without Alex’s help. 

None of this shit was necessary. Alex knew the gist. They were changing his meds.

What else needed to be said?

His mom was sitting in Zach’s usual chair, her scrubs wrinkled in a way he didn’t think they were normally- like she’d left the clean laundry sitting in the basket instead of putting it away. That would make sense. When Mom was too stressed or upset about something, her willingness to do laundry was one of the first things that went.

Alex was glad he remembered, but guilt spread through his chest at the thought of his probable impact on his mom nonetheless. 

“A lot of this comes down to trial and error,” the psychiatrist said. “Especially dealing with a traumatic brain injury as well.”

 _Trial and error, trial and error, trial and error._ It was nothing they hadn’t said a thousand times before. Then again, maybe they knew they were repeating themselves. Maybe it was for Alex’s benefit- because they expected this kind of shit to fall right out of his fucked up skull as soon as it was said. They all saw Alex as inept and broken. 

Or maybe mostly just Alex did now. It was hard to tell the difference.

The psychiatrist babbled on another forty minutes before finally leaving again, handing Alex an index card with his new prescription’s name on it. 

Alex balled it up and hurled it half-heartedly at the trash as soon as he was alone again. It bounced ineffectually off the wall several yards from the trash can. 

“Oh good, you’re already practicing your pitches.”

“Zach.”

Zach grinned easily, striding in and dropping into his usual spot. 

“Don’t sound so surprised, Standall. I told you I’d be here, didn’t I?”

He had, but Alex had realized belatedly that it was New Years Eve today. Zach of all people had better places to be than in Alex’s hospital room on a holiday. 

“And actually, I brought you something.”

He considered asking again if Zach was actually a hallucination, but let the joke die behind his teeth. They didn’t tend to think that shit was as funny as Alex did here.  

Then, Zach licked his lips and said, “close your eyes,” and Alex was distracted by his flipping stomach, the static charge that had taken over the air. He let his eyes close and tried to calm down, to wrest control of his body back to himself. Just this once.

The last thing he’d expected was to feel Zach’s fingers in his hair, then something being settled on his head, gently tugged into place. 

“Perfect.” 

Zach’s voice was low and close. Alex had to consciously fight not to lean into it. 

“See for yourself.”

When Alex’s eyes opened, Zach’s own were on them intently, his phone between his fingers, hovering beside Alex’s thigh.

“Here.”

And Zach held up his phone with the camera turned to capture them. 

Alex stared at himself, at the baseball hat on his head, so obviously Zach’s. He didn’t even know what to say. 

He still looked like shit, of course, but you definitely couldn’t see the scars. Just blue and white, the Liberty tiger on the front with its jaw wide. 

“I brought a few others too,” Zach said. “Never realized how many I had until I went through them.”

Alex’s voice felt thick, his head foggy, yet somehow also clearer than it had been since he woke up. 

For all anyone knew, Alex could look like he always had under Zach’s hat. Hell, he almost looked like himself. 

“You know you didn’t have to do this.”

“Duh,” Zach retorted. He tweaked the hat’s brim, smile widening. “I’m just glad it’s going to a good cause. Here, take a picture with me. I’ll send it to Clay and tell him he needs to get his head out of his ass while it’s still this year.”

“I mean, he already came and apologized.”

“Well, still.”

Zach’s grin was stupidly contagious. 

After Zach had finished taking several pictures of them, he dropped back into his usual spot, reaching into the bag at his feet. Offered two more baseball caps for Alex’s inspection. 

There was a lump in Alex’s throat, as if it had needed further solidified how pathetic he was now. Zach was focused on his phone, so Alex let himself stare. His fingers were moving over the material of the hats, feeling seams and loose threads, the raised shape of lettering, the wear- Zach’s. He so didn’t have to do this. Do any of it. Why was he?

Guilt, Alex had thought. He wasn’t as sure anymore. 

“When are you leaving?” he asked after a while, no eye contact because he just couldn’t.

Alex felt small and frustrated and grateful and transparent. Knotted up on himself. 

Maybe it was the meds- they were changing them, he remembered, thought he should probably tell Zach. 

Maybe it was just him. 

“Are you kidding? I’m not.”

It was New Years Eve. Who was Zach kidding? Alex was angry in a second. What was this? He had other friends, real ones who could actually move and interact like normal people did. Money and parties and sex. Bryce and Justin and- and Monty and-

“I’m not going anywhere,” Zach said. 

Alex’s anger fled as fast as it had come. Zach sounded genuine. He took off Zach’s hat, looked at the baby blue, turned the tiger this way and that, then stuck it back on his head. He could feel the scabs and scarring underneath. 

“Thanks,” Alex made himself say finally. “But just so you know, I’m not kissing you when it strikes midnight.”

Zach laughed, raised a foot to rest on the side of Alex’s bed, nudging into his side with it. 

“You sure? I am letting you borrow my hat.”

“Maybe next year.”

“Deal.”

Zach was shaking his head, black hair flopping, eyes dark and bright, like a place you could rest. Alex pulled Zach’s hat lower on his head and smiled back at him.


End file.
